


Stronghold

by Dark_Frejya



Category: British Actor RPF, Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: Cock Warming, Cockwarming, F/M, Fluff and Smut, RPF, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28654659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Frejya/pseuds/Dark_Frejya
Summary: On a cold winter day, Henry asks you to keep him warm while he is playing his new video game.Originally posted on my Tumblr account on Jan 3rd
Relationships: Henry Cavill & Reader
Kudos: 43





	Stronghold

Snow piled outside your window like teeny mountains of sugar, the glass turning milky as a sheen layer of frost covered the exterior. Winter was a beautiful, cruel queen - deadly for those who came too close yet a gratifying visage to the causal voyeur.

Sitting on the couch with a book perched in your hands and Kal snuggled around your bare feet, you enjoyed the contradiction of the pale blue hues that snuck into the cosiness of the study.

For the first time in your adult life, you knew pure sanctuary, not just of the environmental kind, but this was home, _he_ was home. Content, your eyes travelled to the man sat next to the computer. Henry’s bare torso glowed under the vibrant hues of the monitor, sweat thin and shimmering, coated his profound bicep as he kept his arm folded upon the desk. A small concentrated crease pressed between his thick brows and a gleam of childlike mirth danced on the glossy surface of his orbs.

“See anything you like?” He asked calmly, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

“Maybe…” you drawled provokingly, closing your book and placing it on the red velvety armrest. “Aren’t you cold? It’s January, and you are not wearing a shirt.” 

His cheeks stretched upward as a mischievous smile crested his face. “Maybe I am, shouldn’t it be your job to keep your man warm then?”

The sonorous invitation in his voice was more than evident. Standing from your seat, you straightened your long chunky sweater and then crouched down to remove both legging and underwear.

Henry never raised his sight from his game, but the flick of his tongue over his bottom lip signalled that he definitely caught your wicked little trick. Trying to be at your best sensual behaviour, you slowly strode forth. Your pink panties hung from your index finger in a small playful twirl while you approached closer.

Thick lust drenched your sleek and the way his nostrils flared once you crept closer made you believe he could sense it the way an animal would catch the scent of its fertile mate. His cock definitely did, a large tent stood in the base of his sweats, heeding your proposal.

“Won’t I spoil your fun?” you asked and lifted one leg over to the other side of his chair, caging the large man beneath your now towering body. 

Predatory eyes finally met your glare, not saying a word, he reached his left hand to free his shaft from the confines of his pants. Veiny and succulent, it pulsated with ardour, abiding the protective heat of your lush cavern.

“Like I said: come here and keep your man warm,” he ordered more sternly and rolled his thumb over the dripping crease.

Obeying his will, you shifted down, your breath hitching as the fleshy crown stroked between your petals before pressing inside you. Slow yet firm, his meaty cock sailed through your narrow canal. Every inch unwrapping a blissful harmony of moans.

There was no better song than the enamoured release of pleasure Henry chanted as he buried himself deep inside you.

“You’re my good girl,” he exclaimed with a deep guttural groan, letting you further glide down. Sliding one hand beneath your sweater, he reached to feel himself moving deep in your gut.

“I love feeling myself there.”

You wailed helplessly in response, enjoying the slight burn his imposing invasion brought upon you. Even when you were in control, he made you feel small and subdued, or in another word - fucked. You enjoyed every bit of it, so desperate you were willing to be used to whatever his primal heart desired. 

He bound you to him at last, stilling as the tip of his lance found your cervix. Both Henry and you broke into a peal of arduous huffs, the overwhelming throb of your united flesh threatening to derive you into madness.

You wanted, needed, but he allowed none, not yet.

“Henry…”

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in rebuke, he removed his hand from your belly and retrieved it to the keyboard. “Good things come to those who wait…” his lips murmured against your temple. His large body slumped against the backrest while you sat straddled onto his thighs with only his pulsating passion stuffing your cunt.

This was torture. This was pleasure.

As you were left impaled on his flinching monstrous desire, you vowed that if this is hell, you want nothing but to burn forever.


End file.
